Clara was certainly shocked when she was twirled into the Doctor’s arms. It was something he had rarely done before, even before he regenerated. She didn’t mind, in fact, she quite enjoyed being in his arms for a moment or two. Clara listened to his voice and found comfort in it. She nodded enthusiastically at his rhetorical question and gave him a smirk.
She stumbled a bit when he twirled her out. She took balance for a moment before slowly following him to the console. Clara listened, as she usually did, before saying anything. What he was saying, however, was starting to disturb her. Her eyes searched for anything—anything that could have shown a sign of sarcasm. He had to be joking around.
"—This isn’t you. That’s what I’m thinking!" She took a step back and crossed her arms. "What’s all this business ‘bout vermin an’ wreaking havoc? They’re people. They’re innocent people. You save people. That’s what you do! You’re the Doctor!” Clara took another step back, “And I don’t know who this Master is, but he seems a lot better than you seem to be actin’ right now.”
Clara searched his whole being again. Maybe this was all one sick joke. Maybe he was just trying to pull her strings! But when she looked… nothing. She took a deep sigh and shook her head.
"I don’t know if this is some cruel joke…" She muttered quietly, "—If it isn’t… you might not be who I thought you were. I don’t think I even know you.”
The Doctor freezes as Clara’s words reached his ears, and it was as though the hum of his faithful TARDIS fell as silent as his hearts. Suddenly unsure. Suddenly terrified. Suddenly dark.
He turns slowly, his face suddenly clear of the happiness he had offered the girl only moments ago. Instead, his mask of severe cold fell—the one he presented to distance every stranger, every being he had no reason to trust. Because that’s exactly what she was now.
He steps towards her slowly, bringing himself close enough that if he leaned in, they would touch. The time lord towers over her small form, and the way he looks down at her casts darkness over his eyes, shadowing the gaze. Just as he handled others. He had no intention of responding to her comments, instead starting his own interrogation.
"That tear that you came through," he says, not allowing his eyes to leave hers. "It wasn’t just one in time, was it? Can’t have been, or you certainly wouldn’t be so…disgusted.” The Doctor frowns slightly, analyzing her features, her expression. "Your’e not Clara." The words are a hiss between his teeth as he bring his face closer to hers, his tone turning into a harsh whisper. "You’re too w e a k to be Clara. I should have seen it the moment you stepped in. Oh, but some things will always get past this head of mine, won’t they, sweetheart? No, you’ve come from very, very far away. Haven’t you? Tell me… what is it you expected of me?"
”What is m e ?”
"…. Apparently you’re more human than you let on."
"I know my place, Doctor. Don’t worry.
Does she? Does anything mean
something to you?
Really, I’m just surprised. I
didn’t peg you for the sort
to be interested in sex.”
"That’s right, she does.
And perhaps, my friend, you
don’t know me as well
as you may think. The urge to be
d o m i n a n t
is not limited to
d e v e s t a t i o n.
I thought you of all people
would know that.”
"…. Apparently you’re more human than you let on."
”Very funny, Watson. As if it’s hardly your business. Need I remind you of your standing on this ship?”
"If you must know, she means nothing.”
"Oh? Commit myself? That could mean so many things. I’m not going to drop to my knees and show you just how badly I want onto your ship. Nor am I going to promise you my loyalty. In fact, you are the one who grabbed me, remember? I was minding my own business like a good little girl when you oh so obviously fell all over me. Or should I say for me?You prove yourself worth my time. It’s fleeting, time that is,” she said with a smirk painted on lipsticked lips and her eyes flicked him up and down.
Her fingers walked up his arm slowly and she simply examined him with lips parted in tense silence. “What do you have to say to that? I bet it’s not very nice,” her lips formed a sinful pout and her eyes cast upward at him, “I’m looking forward to it.”
"That is n o t what I meant,” the Doctor growls, his hand reaching out quickly and grasping her wrist, fingers curled tightly around porcelain skin. "And for you to accuse such only proves how little you may be w o r t h.” His eyes narrow, glowering into blue diamonds as the woman continues.
He blinks, brows furrowing in slight frustration and confusion. She was right, it was true. He had pulled her here out of his own sheer curiosity. When had he allowed such a nuisance of an emotion to drive his actions once more? The time lord’s gaze drops to her wandering fingers, following them almost cautiously. Her question lingers in the air between them, the two now cloaked in velvet shadows as night consumes the alley, and the reflection of two emerald shards flash within deep sapphire.
The Doctor’s hand is closing tighter, the action barely registering in his mind.
"You want to know? F i n e. I think you’re a dog that needs to be t r a i n e d. If you even had the slightest idea of the sort of man I a m, you would know better than to ask stupid questions, and you would certainly know how to b e h a v e.”
“C h a o s
c o n t r o l l e d.”
In one swift move he’s wrapped himself around her, arms tight around her waist as he bends her back just so, knowing it’s enough to drive the breath from her lungs. He leans in, allowing himself to linger just above those dark lips, his eyes never straying from hers.
“I know what I want, I d r i s," he whispers, lips nearly brushing hers. The Doctor ducks his head slightly, his mouth now trailing to her neck, hair having fallen aside from the position they were in. His teeth bare, opening his mouth and leaning close enough for the edges to glide acros her skin.
“I want to o w n you.”
The moment that sentence ends, he’s sinking his teeth into soft porcelain skin, his tongue feeling the lifeblood of the TARDIS pulse just beneath her skin. This is what has drawn him—her very being a testament to his life and every life he could have lived. She was not the TARDIS he ripped from his console and locked away. She was better. And he wanted every bit of her.
He parts from her neck, drawing his gaze back to hers and keeps his expression cold. Distant.
“Feel free to take that as your invitation, d e a r.”
I really hope he stays out of my personal space today. I’m running out excuses to slip away. Hell, he probably already knows I don’t want to…
I could kill an entire civilization with my bare hands and he still wouldn’t give a damn. I’ll ever good enough for him, never.
"A happy memory? I loved it when you took me to kill Moriarty… Happiest I’ve been in decades, probably."
God, I just want him to slam me against the wall by my throat and run his hands over my body…
"You’re the most horrifying man I’ve ever met, you know. I love that about you."
He’s kinder than he lets on. Thank god for small favours, yeah?
themanthatlies replied to your post “It is midnight and I really want to do something. The struggle.”2:30 am here hon i feel ya AND I HAVE TO BE UP THEN TOO WOAH COINCIDENCES
emILYYYY I’M SO BORED
*attempts to make un-bored* do you want your URL thing too?